


with your brother's sloppy shirt

by floralathena



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:13:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralathena/pseuds/floralathena
Summary: Will looks at Steve. “... Do you mind if I look at your records?”Steve grins at him. “Sure, I’ll bring some boxes down. You mind keeping an eye on them while I’m upstairs?”Will smiles and nods. “Yeah. That’s perfect. Thank you.”Steve leaves with a fist bump. While he’s upstairs figuring out which boxes he wants to carry down, he sees some t-shirts crumpled up and sticking out his dresser drawer, which is so full it’s not even properly closed. One that he can see poking out is something he stole from the high school last year, and even though it’s a PE shirt that’s been rented out a hundred times it’s probably his favorite shirt to sleep in. Something about old, worn-in clothes always felt so much better than the new ones.





	with your brother's sloppy shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mjolnirbreaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjolnirbreaker/gifts).



It’s the winter of 1984, and fuck is it a cold one.

“Thank you so much, I can give you gas money tomorrow when I get paid, I just-”

“Don’t worry about that, man, it’s cool,” Steve says, cutting off Jonathan. It’s really not cool, because Jonathan took pictures of him and Nancy, and he mocked Jonathan’s missing brother, and they beat the shit out of each other, and Nancy left him for Jonathan, and there’s so much other shit that Steve can’t even remember, but it’s totally cool. 

“Honestly, Jonathan, you’re helping me out. I need to go pay some bills down at the, uh, municipal… place. What’s it called? That place next to the library? I keep putting it off and they’re gonna turn off our damn water soon if I don’t do it. You finally got me off my ass,” Steve says. He’s rambling. “They probably would have shut off the heat tonight and I would have woken up in an ice cube.”

Steve glances nervously to the passenger seat where Jonathan keeps checking his watch. He also keeps rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. Steve turns the car heater all the way up and opens up the vents, as if the air blowing out will ever get any hotter than just a bit above room temperature. Steve’s got on his warmest sweater and a pair of gloves that Dustin’s mom knit for him (with love, she said as she handed them over with a smile, and Steve’d had to pretend that he was allergic to Mrs. Henderson’s perfume to cover for his watering eyes). Jonathan’s coat looks decently warm, but his hands are uncovered, pale and dry.

“I’m sure you could make it a day,” Jonathan says weakly. It feels almost patronizing, but Steve knows that Jonathan is doing his best to be polite. It’s not his fault that… well. A lot of things are kind of his fault but also kind of Steve’s, and kind of Nancy’s, and kind of the monster’s. 

“Still,” Jonathan continues, “Thank you. Mom’s gonna get the new spark plugs after work and pick me up, so it shouldn’t happen again.”

“Hey, I’m always happy to help a person in need,” Steve says, trying to get him to stop talking, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“There’s a spare pair of gloves in the box,” Steve continues, gesturing towards the glove compartment. “I never wear them since Dustin’s mom made me these. Because, like, I’m not gonna show up to bring him to school with some other gloves on, you know? I’m not gonna be the one who breaks her heart. The poor woman’s cat already got eaten by an Upside-Down thing-”

“Wait, what?” Jonathan interrupts.

“Oh, yeah. Mews was… uh, lost. To a Demodog.”

“Huh,” Jonathan says. The air blowing Steve in the face is almost hot. Main Street (and the municipal place, and Jonathan’s shift at the library that’s starting in fifteen minutes) is still about ten minutes away. 

“I’ve got some gloves, actually. Shoved them in my pocket and forgot to put them on like an idiot.”

Steve glances over and raises his eyebrows as Jonathan pulls a pair of yellow gloves out of his pocket. They look just like the ones in the glove box. 

“Where’d you get those?” Steve asked, trying to sound casual. 

“No clue. I actually don’t really remember seeing them before, they were just on the table and I saw them right after I called you.”

“Can you… open the glove box for me?”

Jonathan gives Steve a confused look. “Sure. What do you need?”

Steve glances over. No yellow gloves in the box. 

“Nothing, just thought I put the bills in there. Forgot I put them up on the dash. Thanks.”

Jonathan pushes it closed with a click. They ride in silence, Marvin Gaye crooning quietly from the radio. Not really the music Steve would have chosen for a car ride with Jonathan Byers, but he likes this song enough not to want to change it. They wait at a red light with exactly zero other cars, and Blondie comes on. 

“I think they’re Will’s.”

“What?” Jonathan asks. 

“The gloves. He rides shotgun all the time. I totally forgot I said he could take them. He really liked the color.” 

Steve can see the library. 

“Oh. Do you… want them back?”

“No!” Steve says, “Just… thinking out loud, you know. Keep them. Will would probably be upset if they went missing.”

“...Thanks, then.” Jonathan says. “They’re nice.”

Steve pulls into a spot out front and puts the car in park. 

“See ya,” Steve says awkwardly, turning the car off quickly and grabbing the bills from his dashboard. He unbuckles his belt and exits the car before Jonathan can say anything more.

When he sees Will the next day, he’s got bright yellow gloves on. It almost makes Steve feel warmer just looking at him. 

-

It’s the spring of 1985, and all the kids are over at Steve’s place for once.

“You have a pool? And you never told me?!”

“You’re not actually just entitled to everything I have, you know,” Steve says, catching Max by the back of her shirt as she tries to run past him and into the backyard. “We don’t use it.”

“What? Why not? It’s clean!” she protests. “And it’s actually hot out!”

Steve sighs. She doesn’t know. None of the kids do, now that he thinks about it. Lucas and Dustin are exchanging conspiratorial looks that don’t inspire confidence, and he wonders if he could bear to watch them all having fun where Barb… 

Max’s eyes sparkle when she looks outside.

They never need to know. He can just deal with it. 

“...Alright, you can all swim for a bit, but I paid to rent Footloose so you bet your ass we’re still gonna watch Footloose. You’ve got until the pizza gets here.”

“YES!” Max yells and hugs Steve so quickly that as soon as it’s over, he doubts it even happened. 

“But you don’t have a bathing suit,” Dustin says.

“Neither do you,” Max replies, “but some of us aren’t afraid of a little water.” She’s already running out the sliding glass door by the time her sentence is through. She kicks her shoes off and cannonballs into the water. Lucas and Dustin look at each other for a split second before following after her, whooping and hollering and throwing their shoes at Steve’s back window. 

Mike is watching El watch some Jiffy Pop heat up on the stove, and Will is sitting on the counter next to them. She jumps when it starts to pop, and then she smiles, looking at Mike with excitement in her eyes. Mike looks just as excited as she is. Steve figures he’s got at least another couple of minutes before they join the pool party, so he runs upstairs.

By the time Mike is taking the popcorn out of the pan to show off the magic, he’s back with some supplies. 

“Found these in the closet,” Steve says, getting their attention. He glances outside to check on the kids. Lucas is splashing around a lot, and for a second Steve’s heart stops, but then he realizes that he’s just trying to splash Dustin in the face and he takes a deep breath. He hands Mike a stack of towels and holds up an old pair of drawstring gym shorts and a tank top for El. “I don’t know if you want to try swimming, but if you do, I’ve got some clothes that can get wet.” He places them in her outstretched arms. “And this.” 

An old plastic bucket with some goggles and a snorkel. He hands it to Will, who immediately hands it off to Mike. There’s a pair of inflatable arm floaties folded in the bottom, too, though Steve personally thinks that El is really smart and they could just toss her in and she’d be fine. She might be afraid though, and Steve knows that the floaties always made him feel a little braver getting into the pool when he was learning.

Her face is confused and excited, and she looks out at the pool where the others are all yelling and splashing with a tentative smile. Mike looks at Steve. 

“No clothes for me?”

“You’ve got underwear,” Steve says. 

Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s holding back a smile. 

“I think I’ll stay in here with you,” Will says.

“You alright?” Mike asks. “I can stay in too-”

“No, I’m good!” Will hurries to reassure him, “I just don’t really feel like it, honest. Steve said I could look through his record collection today and I really wanna do that.” 

Will and Mike and El all look at each other for a while, and Steve envies them for what isn’t the first time. These kids all care about each other so much, understand each other’s very souls, to the degree where they can carry on a conversation without any words. Mike searches Will for any sadness or discontent with an intense gaze. Steve thinks he would probably break down under a direct look like that, but Will takes it in stride as the sign of love that it is. 

“Alright. Come on, El, you’re gonna like this so much more than the kiddie pool!” Mike goes outside with all the supplies while El scurries into the bathroom to change.

Will looks at Steve. “... Do you mind if I look at your records?” 

Steve grins at him. He’s never been the type to snitch. “Sure, I’ll bring some boxes down. You mind keeping an eye on them while I’m upstairs?” 

Will smiles and nods. “Yeah. That’s perfect. Thank you.”

Steve leaves with a fist bump. While he’s upstairs figuring out which record boxes he wants to carry down, he sees some t-shirts crumpled up and sticking out his dresser drawer, which is so full it’s not even properly closed. One that he can see poking out is something he stole from the high school last year, and even though it’s a PE shirt that’s been rented out a hundred times it’s probably his favorite shirt to sleep in. Something about old, worn-in clothes always felt so much better than the new ones.

He comes downstairs with three boxes of records on top of each other and a stack of t-shirts, sweatpants, and gym shorts on the very top. Will is eating the Jiffy Pop as he watches El learning how to float around. Max is leading her, holding her hands and swimming backwards as she explains something. The boys are all swimming around her, holding her up when she threatens to dip under and occasionally splashing water into each other’s faces. Steve first puts the records down next to Will on the floor, then takes the pile of clothes outside to lay them next to the towels Mike set down. 

“Did you order the pizza yet?” Will asks when Steve comes back in and sits next to him.

“Nah,” Steve says, stealing a handful of popcorn. “I’ll give them a bit longer. We need time to properly appreciate my collection, after all.”

Will laughs. Steve ruffles his hair and pulls out the first one. “Now, you’re probably a little young to remember this, but in February of 1977,  _ Rumors  _ and  _ Sleepwalker  _ came out within a week of each other and the world was never the same…”

Four hours later, the kids leave Steve with a pile of dirty towels, an empty pizza box, and a totally disorganized record collection. He starts rewinding Footloose as they all head out to Mrs. Byers’ and Hopper’s cars, tired and carrying their wet clothes (and in Will’s case, Foreigner’s self-titled record).

El has on an oversized hoodie and hugs Steve before she leaves. 

-

It’s the summer of 1985, and Steve just doesn’t have as many clothes as he used to.

It doesn’t make any sense. He hasn’t made a Goodwill drop-off in at least a year. Now he can actually use his hamper the way his mother tells him to, because it isn’t surrounded by mostly-clean-but-wrinkled piles of rejected outfits. Maybe his mom popped in and threw out some of his stuff again- but none of the extremely ratty t-shirts or hole-riddled pajama pants he likes to sleep in have disappeared, so that doesn’t really track. Some of his nicer t-shirts are gone, though, and a couple of hoodies. 

His teenage brain says that he’s probably just been getting rid of old stuff slowly over time and the effects finally caught up, but his Hawkins brain says that he started noticing this after all of the Upside-Down stuff, and what if somebody has been sneaking in and stealing his things for some kind of nefarious experiments requiring his DNA? Whatever the cause, he can actually slide the hangers back and forth in his closet now and all of his drawers close, so that’s sorta cool. Oh, well. He doesn’t need much in the way of clothing this summer anyway- his new job at the mall says they’ll provide a uniform for him.

His clothes will probably turn up somewhere around the house.

**Author's Note:**

> every word i wrote here is all thanks to my lovely muse sarah!! we did a fic swap with the same prompt (the kids taking steve's clothes) and you can read her fic "hand-me-down tune" on her account, mjolnirbreaker!! it's AWESOME and emotional and sweet and if you liked this one you'll LOVE hers <3
> 
> title from "the oogum boogum song" by brenton wood
> 
> @discosteves on tumblr if you want to talk :)


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